


Let's Do the Time Warp

by maph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood, But he just can't catch a break, But neither will really admit it, Character Death, Covert space mission, Crying, Depressed Keith (Voltron), Depression, Dorks in Love, Epic Battles, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, I'm warning you, Injury, M/M, Massive angst, Neither can Lance apparently, Now with fanart!!!!, Self-Hatred, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Time Loop, Tragedy, Violence, insult wars, it's really sad, keith tries his best, major angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-05-25 16:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14980667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maph/pseuds/maph
Summary: Keith did not expect to wake up after watching Lance die, but he does anyways. At first, he thought it was a dream, but when he sees Lance die for a second time and then wakes upagain, he begins to suspect that something is up.It is not long before Keith realizes what has happened; he somehow got trapped in a time loop. Over and over he tries to save Lance, and over and over he fails. But unfortunately, there is only so long this can go on before Keith finally,finallycracks.





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Keith, where are you!? We need—“

 The crackle of static as Keith’s communication link to Shiro cut off sent a horrifying wave of dread rolling through his gut, nearly causing him to stumble in his all-out sprint down the halls of the enemy ship.

Sweat prickled on the back of Keith’s neck as he pushed onward, forcing himself to shove all thoughts of concern to the back of his mind. He would worry _only_ once he found the other paladins, and to do that, he needed to concentrate fully on navigating the ship they had invaded hours before. And, you know, not dying.

Over the harsh shrieks of the ship’s alarm system reverberating throughout its interior, Keith thought back to the beginnings of his team’s hellish plan to infiltrate an enemy spacecraft that had been condemned right from the start.

 Three days ago, the sudden sighting of a lone galra ship seemed almost too good to be true. With no discernable enemy reinforcements and the exciting prospect of getting their hands on some useful intel, the paladins had all but jumped on the idea to infiltrate it. Keith too, had been all for it, doing whatever he could to help plan their course of action and gather the necessary equipment.

 If only he had known, if only he’d been smart enough to realize that a singular, seemingly weak galra ship indeed _was_ too good to be true.

 Since there had been not one enemy blip on their radar, the paladins had laid out their plan counting on their mission being easy; a quick in and out. They had all arrived at the ship together in two different lions through the galra’s hangar and had soon after split into groups, each going after a different objective in order to decrease the time they spent on enemy grounds.

 Pidge and Shiro had left first, each promising firmly to come back as soon as Pidge hacked into the ship’s mainframe and looted it for information. He distinctly remembered the smile Shiro had shot over his shoulder as he jogged away, and the look in his eyes promising Keith he would return.

 At the time, the glance had eased Keith’s nerves as he nodded back to the black paladin, but now, all the memory of it did was send jolts of fear shooting through his spine. He couldn’t repress the frantic thoughts that permeated his mind, clouding his judgment with terrifying ease. _What if he doesn’t come back? What if I can’t find him again?_

Lance and Hunk had set off next to find the control room, but not before the latter had given Keith a big, rib-shattering hug and made him promise not to do anything stupid. Keith had rolled his eyes, but before he could agree, Lance, in all his charismatic annoyingness, had claimed that it was literally impossible for Keith to go anywhere _without_ doing something stupid.

 Growling in irritation, Keith had shoved at him, huffing as the other skipped smugly down a hallway opposite the one Shiro and Pidge had disappeared into. Hunk had smiled abashedly and offered a quick apology before chasing after Lance, all the while shouting about not antagonizing his teammates.

 Keith remembered waiting several seconds until the two were out of sight before starting down his _own_ hallway, dead set on hunting down whichever bastard the empire had put in control of the ship. His job, much to the disgruntlement of Shiro, was to explore the ship alone and find the creep that piloted the thing. Once he did, he would knock the guy out and drag him back to the castle where Coran and Allura could work their Altean mind-sweeping magic.

 It had been his idea to go alone, seeing as the other teams needed two people for their jobs, and as much as Shiro hated to admit it, he knew he was right. Keith was perfectly capable of handling his own, and if at any time he found himself overwhelmed, he could simply contact the others via his helmet.

 The plan had been foolproof. So many times they had gone over it, drilling each other about each tiny detail, and formulating contingency plans in case something went wrong. They had thought they were ready, thought they were prepared.

 But nothing could have prepared them for what lie in wait in the very ship they believed to be empty.

 And so here Keith was now, cut off from all contact with his team in the middle of an enemy ship, filled to the brim with a hidden swarm of galra soldiers. He had no way of knowing what was going on besides his own eyes and ears, a fact that stirred a great feeling of unease and barely repressed panic in his gut.

 Keith cursed viciously as he once again found himself face to face with a dead end. The dull, metal-plated hallways seemed endless, stretching on in all directions without so much as a single visual clue to as which one he’d been down before.

Blood pounded in his ears, drowning out all other noises except the sirens that all but drove him insane. Their harsh cries invaded his mind and wrapped around it like a starved python, squeezing out every last drop of fear and worry until they flooded his mind in an inescapable whirlwind. The desperation in Shiro’s voice not minutes before had been all too noticeable, and now at this moment the notion of it was absolutely overwhelming.

 The fact that each and every corridor was identical did little to help quell his temper and steadily rising trepidation, and with a last explicative, Keith spun around and sprinted down a different hallway he sincerely hoped was one he hadn’t been down yet.

On and on he ran, pushing his body to its limits and then some. The metal-plated walls blurred together, his lungs ached painfully, and yet he ignored it, forcing his burning muscles to continue on. Even just a few seconds respite could be the difference between finding his teammates on time or after it was too late. What if he got to the control room to find them all dead? Keith would never be able to live with himself. He would much sooner run himself into the ground before even _thinking_ about letting that happen.

 And so that is what Keith did. He bullied his legs into pushing harder and disregarded the painful cry of his lungs, instead focusing on navigating the labyrinth of hallways in the ship. _You can rest when they’re safe,_ he told himself. _Then, and only then._

As he continued down his newly chosen hallway, flying passed locked doors and suspicious arrays of pipes and wiring, Keith’s ears picked up the telltale ping of bullets being fired on metal walls or objects. It was faint and difficult to hear over the mind-numbing wail of the alarms, but the sound was unmistakable. Gunfire.

 Keith drove his toes into the ground and ran towards the noise with newfound determination. He urged himself to go faster, fueled by the notion that the people he considered to be his family may be in danger.

 Beneath the almost deafening din of the gunfire, growing louder and louder with every step he took, Keith was able to pick out several very human, very recognizable shouts. The sound spurred his weakening muscles, and with a final burst of strength Keith pounded down the last few feet to the doorway. A few more steps, and—

 Keith’s vision gave way to pure, unadulterated mayhem. The control room could have easily been the set of a war movie, with gunfire pinging around the room as a mass of galra soldiers fired haphazardly at the other paladins as they frantically darted for cover behind anything within reach.

 From his hidden position just outside of the doorway, Keith spotted his teammates ducked behind various objects on the far side of the room. Each moment when the enemies’ fire would lull, a helmet- covered head would pop out from behind a dented chair or table, returning fire before darting back to safety.

With a prideful glance, Keith noted that the majority of the screams and shouts filling the room came from the galra side, glad to see that even when outnumbered, the paladins were still a highly effective team. From what he could tell, the others were faring pretty well against the onslaught of galra forces, and he was relieved to see they all appeared to be relatively uninjured

 But when he squinted, gut-clenching in horror upon on closer look, Keith could see they were closed to being overwhelmed.

 He knew it, the paladins knew it, and clearly, the galra knew it.

 With a united, rough cry, the enemy forces rallied, exploding outward in a wave of metal swords and gunfire that Keith took as his cue to intervene.

Right as the flood of enemy soldiers pushed forward, Keith burst from his spot in the doorway, immediately activating his shield and diving for the nearest galra. Using the soldier’s surprise to his advantage, Keith yanked his gun straight from his hands and tossed it to the floor, simultaneously thrusting his sword straight into his abdomen.

 The soldier crumpled, but was immediately replaced by two more, forcing Keith to duck quickly behind his shield, lest he wanted to be skewered like a kebob. Various shouts of relief and happiness echoed through the room as one by one, his teammates began to notice his arrival. And though he wished he could, Keith was unable to respond to them, unable to reassure them that everything would be fine; after all, he was a bit preoccupied with not getting gutted.

 Ignoring their relieved shouts, Keith pushed forward and darted from behind the cover of his shield, making quick work of the soldiers by impaling one and knocking the other into the path of a stray bullet meant for himself.

 Out of the corner of his eye Keith noticed that, just as the galra had done, the paladins were retaliating, most likely fueled by no small amount of determination and adrenaline.

Shiro, now fighting close by Keith, had broken through the front lines of the enemy, and was currently making short work of them with his galra arm. He was panting harshly and his skin was dripping with sweat, but otherwise, much to Keith’s relief, the black paladin seemed fine.

To Shiro’s right fought Hunk and Pidge, both hollering like maniacs as they blasted their way through galra after galra with a series of combo attacks that looked so bizarre he would probably laugh if the situation wasn’t so dire. Even in the midst of a battle that could easily go south for them, Keith was pleased to see the two still retained their air of general craziness.

 Glancing attentively around the room, Keith was quick to spot Lance on the far left, frowning at how isolated the blue paladin was from his teammates. He squinted, trying vainly to get a read on how Lance was fairing, but was unable to assess the situation thanks to yet another galra rushing him with his weapon raised. Their blades clashed loudly, shaking slightly as the two struggled to push the other back.

 Knowing full well it was physically impossible to beat an alien a good foot taller than him in a contest of strength, he rapidly knocked the blade away and crouched, kicking his leg out as he all but dropped to the floor. The galra’s feet were swept from beneath him as Keith’s tibia connected forcefully with his legs, and he went down with a rather ridiculous sounding shriek before being effectively silenced by Keith’s bayard.

 A sudden cackle distracted Keith from his fight, loud enough to be heard over the din of clashing weapons, and drawing his attention to where the blue paladin was standing slightly closer to Keith’s position than he was before. Keith eyed him, staring in utter disbelief at Lance’s stupidity before once again hefting his bayard. “What are you doing, you idiot! Pay attention to your own fight!”

 Lance’s smile remained unaffected as he called back, “Sure, sure. But did you hear the sound he just made?”

 “Yeah, hilarious. Now stop—“ Keith’s eyes widened, honing in on the large figure of a galra behind Lance, previously hidden by the shadows of the various equipment in the control room.

 Horror dawned on his face as he spotted the wicked looking knife in the soldier’s hand, stomach dropping at the savage grin pulling across the other’s face as he stared maliciously down at the oblivious paladin.

In one terrifying, heart-stopping moment, he watched as the galra raised the dagger and brought it down in a deadly arc, eyes tracking its path towards Lance with sheer and utter horror. Keith screamed, driving his heels into the paneled floor as he sprinted towards the blue paladin in a desperate attempt to reach him before the dagger did. “ _Lance!_ ”

 But it was too late. A sickening squelch echoed through the room as the galra embedded the dagger in Lance’s back, cutting through muscle and bone alike as he twisted it harshly in his skin. The tip of the blade poked through the front of Lance’s armor, the soldier having skewered the paladin all the way through.

Keith’s vision dimmed, zeroing in on the enemy as he lifted his sword and hurled it with a strangled scream, not bothering to watch as it zoomed towards the galra and slammed into his chest with a sickly thunk. His attention was focused instead on Lance’s trembling knees, latching onto the other’s shoulders before he could collapse fully to the ground.

 Keith lowered them to the floor, oblivious to the dying sounds of the surrounding fight as the other paladins began to prove themselves victorious. He instead stared into Lance’s glazed eyes, brushing a trembling hand over the other’s face as he did his best to ignore the his rapidly paling skin.

 Keith clenched his jaw tightly as he knelt over the blue paladin, not minding the blood smearing over his suit and hands. This was not supposed to happen, Lance was not supposed to end up like this. He looked so weak, so fragile. So… _dead._

 Lance coughed weakly, voice shaking as he struggled to form a coherent sentence around the blood bubbling at his lips. “G-Guess I should’ve listened to you, huh?”

 Keith choked. “Lance—“

 The blue paladin cut him off. “D-Don’t blame yourself. Not your fault.”

 “But if I’d gotten here sooner—“

 “No.” Lance paused, drawing in a grating breath before continuing. “You did the b-best you could.”

Keith blinked, mutedly shocked to find his vision swimming with tears. They dripped onto the chest plate of Lance’s suit, mixing with the blood splattered over the surface to create a revolting orangey-red color. “Lance, you— you can’t die like this. _You can’t._ ”

 He drew in a shaky breath, hand clenching where it resting by Lance’s head as words he’d never dared admit spilled from his mouth like a flood. “You’re family, Lance, we need you. _I_ need you.”

Lance twitched, the ghost of a smile crossing his face before fading away just as fast as it had appeared. His eyes drooped, dark lashes contrasting sharply with the pallor of his skin. Upon noticing this, Keith grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him roughly when Lance’s eyes refused to open more than a sliver.

 The blue paladin groaned, and with surprising clarity for one who seemed so close to passing out, he whispered, “I’m… family?” Blood trickled down his chest plate, the flow steadily increasing as Lance’s breaths grew more and more strained. “I don’t wanna die.”

 “You won’t.”

 “Don’t let me die.”

 “I won’t.”

 Irises as blue as the ocean itself disappeared behind pale eyelids as Lance’s head dropped to the side, muscles going lax as a final sigh left his lips. Keith’s eyes widened and he flashed his arm out, slapping the other across the face in a futile attempt to wake him, but succeeding in nothing other than creating a red hand imprint on Lance’s cheek.

 The fight, abet dwindling, was still raging on, yet Keith remained completely deaf to the noises around him. Blood pounded in his ears as his eyes frantically scanned Lance’s face in a search for its previous expressiveness, desperately looking for the smallest twitch or movement of his muscles. But the only sign of movement he could spot was the steady drip of blood coming from the wound that had claimed Lance’s life.

Frantically, he dragged the other’s head into his lap, clumsily grasping Lance’s cold, stone-like face with trembling hands. Angling his ear to rest over the blue paladin’s mouth, Keith strained to hear a sign of life; a voice, a whisper, a breath.

  But there was none. Lance’s body had gone completely silent.

 Keith trembled, ignoring the tears flooding his eyes, and screamed.

 His cry reverberated around the room, drawing the attention of enemy and paladin alike. He did not care who heard, did not care if he sounded like a child. Clutching at Lance’s face, Keith heaved in a gasping breath, not completely understanding the cold, empty bubble he felt inside. It was similar to when he thought he had lost Shiro, but this time, the intensity of it was tenfold. He felt like someone had taken a saw to his chest, brutally cutting into him before grabbing his heart and stabbing that too.

 Lance was dead. Gone. He would never be able to cook and joke with Hunk, would never be able to create havoc with Pidge, would never be able to practice sparring with Shiro. Keith would never again have an argument with him, never again be teased by him.

  Lance was gone, and it was all his fault.

 Keith was so focused on Lance’s lifeless face that at first, he didn’t notice the white haze seeping into his vision from the corners of his eyes. He shakily attempted to white it away, but when the white refused to disappear, he began to grow confused.

 Upon noticing this startling development, the white seemed to only spread faster, and before Keith had the chance to so much as blink, it encompassed his vision like a heavy, cruel tidal wave.

 Keith began to flail, panicking over the sudden, startling loss of his vision. He reached out, fingers searching desperately for the body he knew was supposed to be in front of him, but to his immense shock, nothing was there. Keith’s hands connected with absolutely nothing. _No! Lance!_

 Mutedly, Keith realized he could no longer feel the heavy weight of the blue paladin’s head on his legs, that could no longer feel _anything._ Struggling about in an effort to pull himself from the hold of the hazy fog veiling his eyesight, he notably began to slow as his movements became sluggish and his eyes grew tired.

The last thought that crossed his mind before his conscious faded from the world was one of Lance, smiling brightly and laughing from across the room. _Lance…_

* * *

 Keith jolted awake with the gasp of a man resurfacing for air, heart thudding rapidly in his chest as his eyelids snapped open. Disorientated, in took him a few, long seconds to realize where he was; his bedroom in the castle.

 Keith grunted, brow furrowing as he looked around his room with a heavy feeling of confusion. His hair stuck to the back of his neck while sweat seemed to coat every surface of his body, causing him to shiver violently as he struggled to calm his breathing. _What a vivid dream…_

Carefully extracting himself from his tangled sheets, Keith heaved himself to his feet, stumbling lightly before padding heavily across the room to the connected bathroom. He showered quickly, doing his best to push the memories of his dream to the back of his mind, too proud to admit, even to himself, that what he had seen shook him to the core. Lance’s death had felt so real, so true that Keith had woken up feeling as if his entire world had collapsed.

  _But it’s not,_ he consoled himself, stepping out of the shower. _It’s not real._

 Toweling off his hair and dressing quickly, Keith stepped out of his room, yawning hugely as he made his way into the kitchen. No one was awake yet, and he took full advantage of the fact by helping himself to a large cup of pre-made coffee, timer set to be made right before he woke up.

 Leaning against the counter, Keith sighed and lifted his cup to take a sip, gaze lazily trailing around the room in search of something to occupy his time. His eyes landed on the abhorrently colorful calendar pinned to the far wall, one that Hunk, Pidge, and Lance had all contributed to make. The calendar was filled to the brim with stickers, scribbled food recipes, scratchy drawings of aliens, robots, and lions, and to top it all off, decorated with every color imaginable.

 Every morning, one of the three would cross the previous day off with a large X, never once failing to miss a day in their weird, almost obsessive, ritual. The other three adored the calendar in all its colorful glory, but to be honest, Keith kinda hated the thing. Seriously, was it really necessary to use such bright colors?

 Yet regardless of its obnoxious coloring, Keith dealt with it, because in space even Keith would admit it was quite difficult to keep track of the time when everything was constantly dark.

 But despite the fact that the three kept tract of it religiously, Keith noted that the date boxes hadn’t been crossed off for four days, a fact that made absolutely no sense. It was weird, Hunk, Lance, or Pidge _always_ made sure it was up to date. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday had already happened, so why hadn’t they been crossed off?

 As Keith was mulling over the calendar mystery, his ears faintly picked up the sound of the approaching footfalls of two people, recognizing the heavier one as Hunk. And if Hunk was here, that usually meant…

“Did you hog all the coffee again, moody mcgrumpypants?” _Lance._

 Keith glared, ignoring the onslaught of images flashing through his head, of Lance’s expression, of his blood, of his death. “No.”

Hunk rubbed his neck sheepishly and elbowed Lance in the side, furiously whispering “Don’t antagonize him!” to the other paladin.

 Lance chuckled, patting Hunk on the shoulder and reached for the coffee, making his intent to ignore the other’s suggestion clear.

Pouring two cups of caffeine-filled goodness into mugs, Lance slid one over to his friend and simultaneously turned to Keith, fixing him with a look that could only be described as downright mischievous. “So,” he started, “why were you staring at the wall like it murdered your puppy?”

Keith blinked, unaware that he had been staring for so long, much less having been caught in the act. He frowned heavily and ignored Lance’s quip, attention returning to the calendar. “Yeah, uh, isn’t today Sunday?”

The two stared at him, expressions each a varying degree of confusion. Blushingly lightly under the weight of their attention, Keith glanced away, watching warily as Lance quirked a brow and turned around to dump a pound of sugar into his drink, muttering something in Spanish under his breath.

Hunk set his coffee mug gently on the counter. “Uh, no?” He opened a drawer and rummaged through it, quickly finding a marker, and upon moving towards the calendar, drew a thick, black X over Wednesday. “Today’s Thursday, Keith.”

Keith’s brow furrowed as he took a mechanical sip of coffee. “Oh.”

Before he could be questioned further, Shiro, already in full paladin gear, entered the kitchen, and only a couple steps behind him, Allura. Casually flicking a lock of white hair over her shoulder, the Altean turned her attention to the three in the kitchen. “Oh good, everyone’s awake. Shiro and I have some important news.”

Keith nodded, knowing full well that _not_ everyone was awake. But the day anyone tried to wake Pidge before ten would be the day they died, and everyone knew it. The paladins had all mutually chosen to stay amongst the living and just update the green paladin on new events when she woke, instead of being dragged to a very early grave.

Shiro cleared his throat, drawing Keith’s attention away from the menace of a sleep deprived Pidge and to the topic at hand. “About an hour ago, Allura spotted a lone galra ship orbiting a planet not far from here. It appears to be completely alone, making it vulnerable and—“

Keith twitched violently, struggling to keep his mouth closed as his stomach heaved, threatening to spew out his freshly swallowed coffee. Eyes watering, he choked it down, coughing harshly as he hunched over the counter.

 On the inside his mind was a mess, very similar to a raging cyclone as thoughts swirled through his brain at breakneck speed. A lone galra ship… they had spotted the same ship in his dream, three days before the mission that led to Lance’s death. _Three days before, that had been… Thursday._

Lance’s voice penetrated his whirling thoughts, bringing him back from where he had sunken into the confused depths of his mind. The feelings of unease and bemusement remained, settling uncomfortably in Keith’s gut. “Uh, earth to Keith, you good man?”

Keith cleared his throat, face heating as he noticed the others staring at him with expressions ranging from concern to bafflement. “Yeah,” he coughed, doing his best to rid his voice of its rasp. “I’m fine.”

Shiro shot him a look, but instead of questioning him, chose to continue speaking. “Anyways, I think that this ship is the best opportunity to figure out more about the empire’s plans that we’re going to get for a while.” He glanced at Allura, smiling softly in a way that made Keith want to roll his eyes. “Allura and I think it would be best if we created a plan to invade it.”

Keith barely refrained from choking into his coffee again, blood freezing in his veins as the unease in his mind reared its ugly head. White noise filled his ears as the dream he worked so hard to suppress flooded back.

_“Allura spotted a galra ship not far from here, and it doesn’t seem to have any back up in sight.”_

“…you…think?”

_“It’s the best chance we have to gain information on the Galra Empire’s motives.”_

“—eith?”

_“In three days’ time, we will launch a covert attack on the ship. Our goal will be to gather information, a quick in and out, avoiding more fighting than necessary.”_

“Keith!”

Keith jolted to awareness to find that once again he was the subject of everyone’s inquisitive stare. His heart pounded, beating so loudly that he was surprised no one else heard it. “Y-Yeah?”

Shiro furrowed his brow in a display of extremely dad-like concern that would have had him laughing if he wasn’t the one being subjected to it. The black paladin didn’t push it, but eyed Keith with an expression that screamed ‘we’re gonna talk about this later.’ “I asked what you thought about infiltrating the ship, and both Lance and Hunk think it’s a good idea. What about you?”

Keith’s eyes flicked sideways, trying to sort out the rage of thoughts that spun through his mind. It really _was_ a good idea, they hardly knew anything about the internal operations of the empire. If they went in quickly just to collect information, it was highly unlikely that something would go wrong. The mission itself would be extremely beneficial, but there was the one small, upsetting issue of the dream he’d had that seemed to be growing more realistic by the second.

Who was he kidding though? It was just a dream, something that had never actually happened.

_It wasn’t real, Keith. Stop acting like an idiot._

Keith nodded shakily, forcefully pushing down his uncertainty about the subject. “Yeah, sure. Let’s do it.”

Shiro nodded, but before he could say anything else, Lance interrupted with a teasing grin. “Need to lay down, Keith? You’re not looking like your usual dumb, emo self.”

Choosing to ignore the bait that the other had so clearly set out, Keith remained silent, staring into the dregs of his coffee and zoned out right as he heard Hunk asking, “Did you seriously just call him a dumb _emo?_ ” Maybe he _did_ need to lie down, his head was too muddled to concentrate on anything else.

 “Yeah, actually. I think I do.” Lance gaped, shocked and even a little worried about how he had used his teasing comment as an escape route. Keith ignored the other’s surprise and turned to leave, briefly resting his hand on Shiro’s arm in a gesture that said ‘I’m fine’ as he brushed past him.

Leaving Lance sputtering as he and the paladins watched him exit the kitchen, Keith disappeared into the hallway, gingerly shuffling along as if he would keel over any second. His head spun, making it difficult for him to maintain his balance as he slowly made his way towards his room.

Upon reaching the entrance, Keith plodded through the doorway and collapsed onto his bed, closing his eyes the second they hit the pillow. He was just having an off day, that’s all this was. Just a tired spell.

But that didn’t explain why he was so exhausted despite having just woken up, did it?

Keith ignored the doubting voice in the back of his head with bullheaded determination, opting instead to focus on falling asleep. Luckily, it did not require much concentration, and he quickly found himself drifting off. _Stop overthinking things, you’ll feel better when you wake up._

And with that, Keith let the darkness claim him, falling instantly into an unusually quiet sleep, thankfully void of galra, blood, and especially, Lance. 

* * *

 

The next two days passed in a blur, occupied completely by the paladins scrambling to piece together a plan to infiltrate the ship. Way much more work went into it than one might have thought, and luckily, with so many distractions it was easy for Keith to almost forget about his entirely too realistic dream. 

Because of how much effort went into the plan, Keith had no time to express any distaste or concerns with it or anything else, but that also meant none of the others did either. Specifically, Shiro, who whenever it seemed like he would ask for some time to talk, Keith made all the effort in the world to make it seem like he was far too busy.

Thankfully, his method of avoidance worked, and by the time Saturday rolled around, Keith had managed to stay lecture-free. Lucky him.

Standing in a small cluster in the castle hangar, Keith listened as Allura and Shiro stood before him and the others, going over the basis of the plan with necessary but annoying precision. For the most part, he tuned them out, mind drifting back to the odd dream he’d had before.

An image of Lance’s bloodied, pale face flashed through his mind, accompanied by the whispered words, _“don’t let me die.”_ Keith flinched, completely perplexed to as why it had been so vivid and seemed so real. And how was it that he dreamed of the mission before it had even happened? Coincidence, maybe? It had to have been, what else could it be?

“—eet up at the place where we board the ship. Any questions?” Keith was drawn from his thoughts by Shiro’s authoritative voice, snapping his attention away from his thoughts in the way only a leader could.

Upon seeing that no one had anything to ask, the black paladin nodded and spun around, signaling the others to get in their lions.

The paladins would only be travelling in two lions, the green lion and the blue lion, for having all five kind of defeated the purpose of a stealth mission. Hunk, Pidge, and Keith would travel in the green one, and Lance and Shiro would ride in the blue. Originally, Keith had been supposed to go with Lance and Shiro, but no way in hell was he giving the other a chance to confront him about his behavior as of late.

As Pidge piloted her lion out of the hangar and towards the galra ship, Keith found that once again the memories of his dream were resurfacing as they drew closer and closer to the ship.   _I could swear I’ve done this before._

“Keith?”

He twitched, refusing to display just how much Hunk had startled him. “Yeah?”

“Hey man, you seem really, uh, tense? Like more so than usual tense, and that’s kinda saying something considering you’re always, like, tense times a thousand. Did something happen?”

Keith grimaced, meeting Hunk’s worried gaze for a few seconds before looking away. “No, I’m okay. I’m just tired.” He felt slightly bad about lying to someone as sincere as Hunk, but he didn’t exactly _want_ to be considered the crazy one of the group after revealing his weird, futuristic dream.

“Tired for the past couple _days_? ‘Cus you’ve been acting weird for a while now.” Pidge’s voice echoed from the front of the lion where she sat, turned around in her seat to pin him with her deadpan gaze.

Keith scowled. “Have not.”

“Oh yeah? Literally every time Lance talks to you, you get all weird and somehow dip out of the conversation.”

Rather than refute her statement, Keith opted to remain silent for a few moments longer, knowing perfectly well that what she said was true. It just that every time he saw Lance, flashes of his frozen smile and his blank eyes overwhelmed him to the point where he had to leave out of fear he would break down right there and then.

 “Yeah, well,” Keith scrambled for something to say in his defense. “It’s not like he cares or anything.”

“Actually bud, that’s where I’m gonna have to disagree with you.” Keith blinked in confusion as Hunk clapped a large, warm hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know if you’ve realized, but making cracks is how Lance interacts with you. I know for a fact that you both get a kick out of your weird, teasing, insult wars, and believe it or not, through those are one of the main ways you two have grown closer.”

Keith blushed lightly, a bit uncomfortable at the analyzation of he and Lance’s relationship. “Lance isn’t stupid,” Hunk continued, “he knows something’s up with you. He’s worried man, we kinda all are.”

Pidge nodded her agreement, serving to drive the nail of guilt deeper into his heart. Keith hadn’t _meant_ to ignore Lance, and had certainly hadn’t been aware of just how “weird” he’d been acting. “Should I apologize?”

Hunk snorted. “Nah, Lance is my buddy and all, but I know for a fact that if you say sorry, there’s a solid forty percent chance he’d hold it over your head for weeks. Just try to engage him in your little insult games once in a while, okay?”

Keith exhaled a sigh of relief; he had been really dreading the prospect of apologizing. “Yeah, sure. I can do that.”

The rest of the trip was spent in relative silence, save the occasional shift of their metal suits or beep from the green lion’s console. As they drew closer to the underside of the ship, Keith noted that the blue lion was already in the loading dock, still completely activated in case the paladins needed a quick getaway.

Climbing down the ramp and out of the green lion’s mouth, Keith was met with Lance and Shiro, each sporting vastly different expressions. While Shiro’s features had molded themselves into a solid mask of grim determination, quickly adapting to the role of black paladin and team leader, Lance, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.

 The blue paladin stood with his arms crossed, grinning smugly over at other three paladins as they disembarked from the lion in an expression entirely unsuited to such a serious mission. But hey, what could they do, it _was_ Lance, after all.

Lance turned and addressed Pidge with a grin, keeping his eyes trained on Keith as he did so. “Took you long enough, huh? Was Keith over there slowing you down?”

With a slight tug in his gut, Keith noted that while Lance’s voice lilted jokingly, his eyes were anything but. They were analytical, unsure, concerned. It was a stare that screamed to ask _‘are you okay?’_ but was simply unable to form the words.

Glancing at Hunk, who in turn offered an encouraging nod, Keith crossed his own arms in a gesture that mimicked Lance’s, lips quirking slightly as he did so. “Oh, please. I bet you bothered Shiro until he agreed to let you rush here just so you could say that.”

Lance squawked, affronted, but Keith was pleased to see that the look in his eyes had changed to one of delight, and maybe even partnered with a touch of relief. “Har har, Keith. It was my superior flying skills that—“

“That’s enough you two, we’re in the middle of a mission.” Shiro cut in, not giving any of the others time to protest. “Remember, stick to the plan. Pidge and I will go and find a place for her to hack into the ship’s system. Lance, you and Hunk need to locate the control room and check if there’s any vital information about the ship we might have missed.

“Keith,” Shiro paused as his voice took on a slightly disapproving tone, upset over the fact that Keith was working alone. “Your job is to capture the galra in charge of this ship, nothing else. Don’t do anything without thinking.”

Keith nodded and tried not to be offended, unhooking his bayard from his side. “I won’t.”

Meeting the paladins’ gazes one last time, Shiro nodded and gave a final, small smile before gesturing to Pidge and leaving, creeping down the nearest hallway and disappearing into the ship.

As soon as they were out of sight, Hunk turned to Keith, wrapping him in a rib- crushing hug. “Seriously man, don’t do anything reckless.”

Keith patted him awkwardly, unused to such physical contact, but before he could wish the two good luck, Lance butt in. “Come on Hunk, you know it’s literally impossible for him to go _anywhere_ without doing something reckless.”

Growling, Keith shoved at the blue paladin, flipping him off as the other danced away from his attacks. He rolled his eyes, wishing Hunk good luck before spinning around in his own direction, dead set on ignoring Lance’s antics. But before he could continue forwards, a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him from moving.

Keith turned, one eyebrow raised as he came face to face with Lance, whose own facial expression was surprisingly unreadable. “Seriously though,” Lance’s eyes flicked to the side. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Too shocked to form even a somewhat intelligent rebuttal, all Keith managed to muster up was a feeble, stuttered, “Y-You too.”  Lance nodded, flashing a grim smile before spinning around to run after Hunk. Keith watched him until he was out of sight before once again stepping towards his _own_ ship corridor. He tried not to think about how similar that grin was to the one Lance had given him as he choked on his own blood.

For what felt like hours, Keith crept along the strangely empty halls, bayard unsheathed and senses on high alert. The one good thing about being half-galra, it seemed, was that at least his senses were much more heightened than the average human. Semi-night vision _did_ have its perks, after all.

Peering into what seemed like the hundredth empty room he had checked, Keith nearly screamed when all of a sudden, his helmet’s communication system crackled to life. He succeeded in only emitting a muffled yelp, but was too busy trying to hear his teammate over the static than to be embarrassed. “…eith, we’re…ounded…!”

Keith frowned, a feeling of worry weighing heavily in his gut. “Shiro? What wrong, where are you?”

“…ol room! We need—“

Shiro’s voice cut off, sending icy hot spikes of fear shooting down his spine. Immediately, Keith whipped around and sprinted back in the direction he came, trying to push all thoughts of his dream out of his head. He rushed down the halls, growing increasingly frustrated as each direction he went yielded not a whiff of hide nor hair of paladin.

A minute, stretched so long it felt like years, passed before Keith’s hypersensitive ears picked up the faint sound of the telltale popping noises that only a gun could make. He dug in his heels and ran, oblivious to his own panting breaths and painfully burning muscles.

 The sound multiplied, growing in volume and intensity as Keith neared the site, mixing with the now audible shouts of galra soldiers, weapon discharge, and underneath it all, very frantic, very _human_ voices.

The scene that Keith saw as he burst into the room was nothing short of unbridled chaos. Allies and enemies alike cursed and shouted, each trying to get an upper hand on the other. Bullets and blades ricocheted off of metal tables and walls, sparking control panels and cutting various wires.

Galra soldiers swarmed the far side of the room, pushing forward with ruthless determination, even as their own comrades dropped dead at their feet. On the other side sat the paladins, taking shelter behind an overturned table and well on their way to being overwhelmed.

Taking this sight as a cue to make his entrance, Keith immediately activated his shield, sparing a glance at his teammates before lunging towards the nearest galra. The doorway through which he had come was located approximately at the midline of the fight, a fact that boded perfectly for Keith, seeing as the galra had little time to get over their surprise.

Upon bringing down the first galra with a quick jab of his sword, Keith spared a glance back to his team, relieved to see they were all relatively uninjured. Hunk’s face looked a bit bruised and Shiro had a light cut over his cheek, but overall, they were okay.

Keith heaved a sigh of relief before turning to dive at another soldier. _They’re fine, Keith. Let’s keep them that way._

“Keith!” Lance’s relieved shout caught his attention, and Keith was proud to say that he only blushed a little upon hearing the joy in the blue paladin’s voice. He called out a breathy “sorry I’m late” before turning his complete attention to the battle ahead. He could hear the paladins rallying behind him, but despite all their help, the fight here would be a long one.

Keith twisted and parried, lunged and stabbed, blocked and sliced until there were no more enemies left the challenge him. He leaned on his bayard, heaving in massive, gulping breaths as he struggled to ignore the light sting in his arm where one of the galras had clipped him with a bullet. His attention began to wander, settling on where the other paladins were wrapping up their own fights.

Shiro, dirty and exhausted but otherwise okay, was making quick work of a pair of galra, using his epic, sci-fi lightsaber arm to slice the two to pieces. Hunk and Pidge were double-teaming an obviously extremely confused soldier, taunting it with insults while simultaneously pushing it back with their massive gun and retractable blade alike. Lance, on the other hand, who had finished off his own galra long ago, met Keith’s gaze with a wink and finger guns.

Keith snorted and rolled his eyes, but was unable to formulate a response thanks to a stray galra rushing him from the side. Hefting his sword, Keith feinted to the left, sweeping the soldier’s feet out from under him while he was distracted by the bayard. The galra fell with a loud whoop, yelping like an injured dog as his back impacted with the ground. Wasting no time, Keith drove the blade through his chest, keeping it in place until the galra stopped twitching.

A loud laugh caused Keith to whip around, and was met, unsurprisingly, with Lance’s grinning face. His eyelids were squeezed closed as he ducked his head down, one hand clutching at his stomach. Keith swore he did his best not to stare. “Lance, what are you _doing_?! Pay attention to what’s around you!”

Lance’s chuckles subsided, but still continued to grin like a moron, that wasn’t attractive at all, mind you. “Yeah, yeah, I am. But did you hear the sound he made when he fell?”

“Yeah, I did. Now stop—“ Keith’s eyes widened, zeroing in on the galra Lance had yet to spot behind him. His entire world became Lance, mute to everyone else around him, blind to everything but Lance’s confused expression and the malicious one towering above him.

Keith shouted, and everything grinded to a stop. Harsh breaths echoed in his ear as he pushed forward, feeling as if he were trying to move through syrup as he ran. Everything was too slow, _he_ was too slow, and with his pulse pounding he chucked his bayard through the air, watching desperately as it spun towards the enemy.

The blade connected with its target a second too late. By the time Keith reached the two, Lance was on the floor in a pool of his own blood, situated on his side while a dagger protruded from his back while its blade pierced his chest. Keith’s vision went red, and a memory of Lance laying in the exact same spot flashed before his eyes. _I could have prevented this, I could have—_

Tears pricked in his eyes as Keith fell to his knees, pulling Lance’s limp head into his lap. He sucked in a grating breath, voice shaking viciously. “L-Lance.” The blue paladin smiled weakly up at him as he struggled to finish his sentence. “This— this is my fault. I could have—“

A quivering hand reached up, touching Keith’s cheek in a gesture that was much too light. “It’s not.” Lance whispered. “I guess I should have listened to you, huh?”

Keith grit his teeth, catching Lance’s hand before it could drop limply onto his chest. He squeezed it tightly, rubbing his thumb over the other’s rapidly paling knuckles. His dream had been right, he had known this whole time, and yet he hadn’t done a single thing to stop it. “N-No, you don’t understand. I knew this would happen. I could have stopped this, I could have saved you. This is all my fault.”

Lance blinked slowly, confusion clouding his rapidly dimming eyes. “It’s not.”

Tears spilled down Keith’s cheeks as he gazed down at the blue paladin, not at all liking how hard it had become to hear Lance speak. “It is.”

Brushing his free hand over Lance’s forehead, he curled his fingers into the other’s soft hair with as gentle a grip as possible. Keith stroked it for a while, unsure of what to say, what he _could_ say to make everything right and the wound in Lance’s back close.

The hand in Keith’s grasp twitched, drawing his gaze immediately to the head resting in his lap. “Hey…”

Keith blinked tears from his eyes. “Y-Yeah?”

Lance’s mouth twitched, lacking enough energy to form a complete smile. “I really like you, Keith. I wish,” he coughed, blood bubbling from between his lips. “I wish I had more time to get to know you. I don’t want to d-die.”

Keith stared down at the blue paladin, too overwhelmed with emotions to formulate the things he wanted to say. He squeezed his eyes shut, Lance’s words echoing through his head. In his mind’s eye, he could see various images of Lance laughing, Lance smiling, Lance teasing him, Lance hugging him with a happy glint in his eye. His heart ached, well aware that he would never get to see those things again.

“I—“ his voice cracked. “I really like you too, Lance.” Keith opened his eyes, hoping to see a small smile on the blue paladin’s face, but it was too late. Dull, blue eyes stared blankly ahead, meeting Keith’s stare without an ounce of their previous liveliness. His lips were parted slightly, allowing a trickle of blood to escape from them, trailing slowly over his much too pale skin.

Keith choked, slapping a hand across the other’s face in a futile effort to draw him from his endless slumber. Lance’s limp body didn’t so much as twitch, and with his heart feeling as if it had been brutally ripped from his body, Keith threw back his head and screamed.

He was in so much pain, so much anguish, that at first Keith didn’t notice his vision starting to fade white. But when he _did_ notice, he didn’t react, uncaring of whether he passed out or not. It didn’t matter what happened to him, Lance was dead.

Lance was dead and he wasn’t coming back.

Fuzzy whiteness claimed his vision, and with a last pang of grief, Keith let go, drifting far away from the blood and the tears and Lance’s empty, dead eyes.

* * *

 

Keith bolted upright, hands clawing at the sweaty sheets below him. He let out a strangled yell, eyes darting wildly in every direction, searching for a body that was not there.

Upon realizing that he was in his room, Keith paused, unsure and confused about his rather vexing change of location. He had seen Lance die _twice_ , witnessed it with his own eyes. So why the hell was he in his room? There was no way it was fake, absolutely no way that a dream could feel _that_ realistic. Was it really possible that he had dreamed he had dreamed of Lance dying in the exact same way in the exact same place?

Somehow, Keith didn’t think so.

Twice Keith had watched a galra imbedded his dagger in his back, twice he had held Lance’s head in his lap as he struggled to breathe, and twice he had watched the life fade from his eyes. So what the hell was happening?

A thin trail of liquid rolled down Keith’s cheek, and with a hasty movement he wiped away the tears he hadn’t realized he was crying. He stared down at the crumped sheets around his legs, eyes tracing their wrinkles with a confused yet thoughtful expression.

He was here, really here in his bed, but had not dreamt, yet the past two experiences had been undoubtedly real. He had _seen_ Lance die. _What the fuck?_

But what about what Lance had _said?_ Did he really like Keith, as in _like,_ like? The thought of the other’s words drew a blush to his face, but the horrid thought of what happened after hearing those words instantly muted his embarrassment. Who was he kidding? Lance was probably delirious, be it from blood loss or from pain.

There was absolutely no way that Lance truly liked him, and Keith refused to let his mind even consider it. The thought just wasn’t possible, no matter how much the tiny voice in the back of his head shouted that it could be.

A sharp knock on his door startled Keith from his thoughts, barely muffling his yelp of surprise. “Keith, you up? Allura and I have something to discuss with the team, everyone’s already in the kitchen.”

Had he really been laying there for that long? Throwing the sheets from his legs and jumping off the bed, Keith frantically shucked off his pajamas and bolted for his closet, ignoring the icy trickle of unease that oozed down his spine at Shiro’s words, praying to god the discussion wouldn’t be what he thought it was about. He grabbed a clean pair of clothes, pulling them on in a rush. “Yeah, I’ll be there a second!”

Shooting a quick glance at the mirror in his bathroom, Keith noted his pale complexion and dark circles under his eyes, but chose to ignore them in favor of splashing water over his face in a last-ditch attempt to make himself look even remotely alert. He patted his cheeks with a fresh towel and tossed it to the side, jogging to his bedroom door and pushing it open more forcefully than he’d intended.

Shiro had already left to return to the kitchen, a fact that Keith was extremely grateful for, seeing as he knew the other would immediately sense that something was wrong, and he was _not_ in the mood for a big brother interrogation. Shiro always seemed to know how to get him to talk, and Keith really didn’t feel like explaining the weird déjà vu he felt over his dream, accompanied by watching your own teammate die in a dream that definitely was not a dream.

With a quiet sigh, Keith scrubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands, padding softly down the hall and into the kitchen. Muted conversation and faint laughter grew louder as he drew closer, and upon entering the room Keith was immediately met with Lance’s back, seemingly in the middle of relaying a story to a laughing Hunk and Pidge.

Keith stared, eyes tracing over the other’s soft-looking hair and clean clothes, all the while envisioning a dagger being driven right between his shoulder blades and through his chest. The imaginary blood stain grew unhindered, and to Keith it felt anything but.

Lance turned and caught sight of him, mouth moving to formulate a sentence clearly directed toward him, but Keith, however, did not hear it. He couldn’t hear anything but Lance’s dying voice telling him he didn’t want to die.

But Lance was not bleeding out on the floor, was not smiling weakly up at him with shaky lips and fading eyes. Rather, the blue paladin stood before him, not a trace of blood or sweat lining his face like it had before. His skin was tanned and healthy, and his lips moved to form a confused frown rather than dying whispers. Lance was here, alive. Everything was okay.

A firm hand dropped onto Keith’s shoulder, drawing his gaze away from Lance and towards Shiro’s concerned stare. “You alright Keith? You spaced out for like a minute.”

Keith’s eyes flicked away, darting to the calendar on the wall. Wednesday had already been crossed off, making today Thursday. “Y-Yeah,” he breathed, “I had a rough night.”

Shrugging off Shiro’s hand, Keith brushed past the other three and made a B-line for the coffee machine, eyes looking everywhere but at the calendar. Unfortunately, they settled on Lance, who was looking at him with a quirked eyebrow and folded arms. “Dude didn’t you hear me? I asked you why you got here so late, usually you’re the first to wake up.”

Keith shrugged nervously and sipped his coffee, ignoring how it scalded his tongue and burned his throat as he swallowed a mouthful. “Slept in late, that’s all.”

Lance’s eyebrow merely rose higher, obviously unimpressed.

 Unnerved that the other could see through his bullshit so easily, Keith bristled, instantly on the defense. “I didn’t wake up when my alarm went off. Why do you care so much, anyways?”

Lance’s eyes widened, and Keith could have sworn hurt flashed through them before they settled into a glare. Immediately feeling guilty, he chose not to react as Lance growled out, “I don’t. I was just surprised you weren’t already here darkening the atmosphere with your moody, anti-social angst vibes.”

It was at that moment that Allura entered the kitchen, strolling into the room with the same air of quiet dignity that she always carried about her. Keith was relieved that her presence had stopped he and Lance’s inevitable argument, but that feeling was soon replaced by dread as she and Shiro began to talk about a lone galra ship they had spotted not far from the castle.

Allowing Allura and Shiro’s voices to fade into background noise, Keith stared sullenly into his coffee, hoping to god that this situation wasn’t real. He desperately wished for this to be a dream, but deep down he knew it wasn’t.

This was just as real as Lance’s previous deaths has been, just as solid, just a true. As much as he loathed to admit it, Keith knew in his gut what was going on. He was trapped, caught in some sort of weird time loop with the sole intent of making him suffer as much as possible.

As for how it had happened or how he could end it, Keith had not the slightest clue. But he would, he _could,_ because if he had to watch Lance die over and over, Keith would lose it. He would do whatever it would take to end this.

“Keith? What do you think?”

Keith lifted his head from where he had previously been staring into the dregs of his coffee, knowing full well what Shiro was asking despite not having been paying attention. Meeting the black paladin’s gaze squarely, he spoke as clearly as he could, vainly trying to keep his voice from cracking. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Shiro eyebrows raised in surprise, clearly having been expecting Keith to agree. “Why’s that?”

“Well what if,” Keith hesitated, “what if it’s an ambush?”

The black paladin shifted, glancing over at Allura with a nod. “We considered that possibility as well, but we scanned the entire ship and it seems very doubtful that we missed something.” Keith opened his mouth to argue, but Shiro continued before he could do so. “Just give the plan a shot, okay? Everyone else is on board with it and it is highly unlikely that something will go wrong.”

Keith growled, grinding his teeth in frustration at the finality of Shiro’s words. Unfortunately, he knew Shiro well enough to know that by this point, even if Keith argued, Shiro would find a way to maneuver around what he would say. After all, on paper, the plan was completely flawless, the perfect opportunity to gather more intel on their enemies.

With a glare that may have been a bit more aggressive than strictly necessary, Keith met Shiro’s gaze head on, taking a last sip of coffee before speaking. “Fine.” He clenched his jaw, fighting to make his words sound less terse than they did. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

All but slamming his mug onto the counter, Keith strode out of the room, doing his best to make his pace seem a lot less harried than he felt.

If Shiro was so insistent on boarding the galra ship, then fine. Keith would just have to keep Lance alive in his own way.

* * *

 

 While the rest of the team worked on drafting the plan to infiltrate the ship, Keith busied himself with creating his _own_ plan. Countless hours went into making sure Lance would be safe every step of the way, and by the time two days had passed, Keith was satisfied that this time, the blue paladin would come out of this mission without even so much as a scratch.

This time, as the paladins arrived at the enemy hangar, Keith bid good luck to Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro as they left before setting off with Lance in their own direction to locate the control room. Keith had fought hard to be partnered with him, doing his very best to not allow the other out of his sight even once.

Though Keith, thanks to the past two loops, knew exactly where the control room was, he intentionally lead Lance down a couple dead ends and random corridors, knowing full well what would happen as soon as they found it. He kept his bayard drawn, holding the sword out in front of him at all times as he crept silently through the ship.

After a few tense minutes, Lance, completely out of the blue mind you, decided to start speaking, and Keith barely refrained from jumping at the sudden disturbance of eerie quiet shrouding the ship. “Keith, you okay? You seem a bit, uh.” Lance hesitated, searching for the best word to use. “Wound up?”

Keith glanced backwards and met the other’s gaze with pursed lips, speaking with a cold tone that didn’t invite a response. “Something bad is going to happen, stay on high alert.”

Lance grumbled sulkily and looked downward, not even bothering to question Keith’s weird certainty. Once again, guilt began to amass in Keith’s gut, feeling bad for shutting the other down.

He tried again, hoping that this time he chose the right thing to say. “Sorry, I’m being snappy. I _am_ a bit tense, actually.”

Glancing up, the blue paladin peered at him curiously, obviously surprised at his sudden apology. “You’re really against this mission, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Lance moved closer and patted him on the back, hand lingering a little longer than necessary. “I get that man, but listen,” his voice took on a more serious tone. “Nothing’s going to happen. This is just gonna be a quick mission, we’ll be out of here and back at the castle soon.”

A teasing, more Lance-like grin crossed his face. “Don’t worry, Lancey-Lance’s got your back.”

Keith rolled his eyes and smiled, pushing the cryptic thought of _‘no you don’t’_ out of his head. “Okay then _Lancey-Lance,_ lead on.”

Lance chuckled and marched forward, moving in a way that was so comically exaggerated that it brightened Keith’s mood, though only for a second. The thought of the blue paladin’s stiff, lifeless face succeeded pretty well in bringing it down again.

Leading them in a direction Keith knew to be the right one, Lance walked unhurriedly down the silent halls, seemingly more at ease thanks to the apparent lack of galra soldiers around the ship. He tried not to think about how, in a few minutes, all of its supposed emptiness would change.

Keith knew that Lance finding the control room was inevitable, but he couldn’t help but be disgruntled anyways as the two walked into the soon-to-be bloody warzone. The blue paladin let out a little yip of triumph, pumping his fist with glee. “Thank god, I thought we’d be walking forever!” He spun around, wandering towards the nearest keyboard and studied it with a intruged expression.

Keith grunted his agreement, not really feeling up for a discussion. He kept his guard up, eyes darting wearily around the room in search of a glint of steel or flash of purple fur. He knew the soldiers were bound to swarm out at some point, but when?

While Keith had been analyzing the room for any sign of galra, Lance was busy scrutinizing the keyboard, tilting his head in obvious interest. “Huh…”

Keith froze. He _knew_ that tone, and would even go so far as to say that he dreaded it. It was the sound Lance made when he was highly curious about something, usually followed by immediate disaster and chaos.

 It was a sound that could only mean one thing; Lance was about to do something really, _really_ dumb.

Spinning around, Keith threw out his hand towards the blue paladin in a futile effort to stop his movement. “Lance! _No!_ ”

But it was too late. Lance’s finger had already connected with a button on the keyboard, instantly setting off the ship-wide red, flashing alarm bells and their deafening cries.

Keith glared furiously at the blue paladin, who could do little but smile sheepishly before the first way of soldiers struck.

Bullets sprayed overhead as Keith ducked, dodging a stray sword before knocking it out of the soldier’s hands and incapacitating it swiftly. Lunging towards Lance before they could move too far apart, he threw up his shield to block the other from a sudden burst of bullets, deactivating it quickly to slice down the shooter.

Pushing against the wall of soldiers, Keith’s attention remained fixated on Lance, making sure that not so much as a fuzzy, purple finger got within a five-foot radius of him. And for those he couldn’t get to in time, Lance made swift work of, fully living up to his title of sharpshooter.

Out of the corner of his eye, Keith noted a stray galra slip through his line of defense and he pivoted sharply to intercept it, lunging for the soldier with the intent to kill. Their weapons clashed loudly, sword meeting sword, and for a moment, the two struggled viciously in a brutal fight for survival.

 In a sudden burst of strength, Keith knocked the soldier off balance, using the other’s surprise to slash his bayard across its neck in a killing blow.

But though Keith had triumphed, the fight had lasted too long. He had been so focused on protected Lance, that he had completely forgot to protect himself.

The hairs on the back of Keith’s neck prickled, signifying the rapid approach of something behind him, getting closer with alarming speed. He twisted around, eyes widening as a galra ran at him, closing in much too quickly for Keith to bring up his sword. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the worst.

But, the worst never came.

The telltale _shick_ of a blade connecting with flesh flooded Keith’s ears, but strangely enough, he felt no pain to accompany it. Confused, he furrowed his brow and opened his eyes, only to come face to face with one Lance McClain.

Unadulterated horror flooded through Keith’s mind as his gaze landed on the blood coated steel protruding from Lance’s chest. His mouth felt like cotton and white noise invaded his hearing, able to look at nothing but the rapidly growing dark stain on the front of Lance’s armor.

The blade was only there for a second before the soldier holding it retracted it, causing Lance to slump limply into Keith’s arms. He lowered the blue paladin gently to the ground, making sure he was still alive before he dragged himself to his feet, eyes staring listlessly at the soldier that held the blood-stained knife.

His vision flooded red, and Keith let himself go.

By the time the rage had cleared from his sight, white was already starting to take its place, and with a panicked gasp, Keith bolted towards Lance’s body, stumbling over the corpses of the soldiers he had killed not seconds before. His entire body ached like one giant bruise, but he hardly noticed it as he dropped to his knees beside the other’s still form.

Lance blinked slowly, the light in his eyes fading rapidly as they fixated on the person above him. His lips parted, cracked and tinted with red, trying to form words that would never leave his mouth.

Keith inhaled sharply as he looked down on the other, not bothering to try and quell the painful sobs that welled up from his throat. His hands trembled violently as they clutched at Lance’s face. “N-Not again, please, not again.”

The corner of Lance’s lip twitched as he sighed, eyelids drooping closed with an air of finality that could only mean one thing. Keith sucked in a harsh breath as the blue paladin’s chest stopped rising, fingers searching for a pulse on the other’s neck that he knew he would not find. “L-Lance…”

Dull, sightless eyes stared up at him as white crowded his vision, oozing outward in a way far too similar to the blood on Lance’s chest plate.

Keith wailed, dropping his head in anguish as the white finally claimed him.

_“Lance!”_


	2. Chapter 2

It was Thursday again, and Keith was doing his absolute best to drown himself in his coffee as Shiro and Allura prattled on about the ship they had spotted. Sighing as heavily as he could without drawing attention to himself, he thought back to Lance’s last death, the third one Keith had been forced to witness.

 Lance’s death had been different that time; he hadn’t died because he was snuck up on, hadn’t died because he wasn’t pay attention. He had died for _Keith,_ a fact that was almost too much to bear.

 Keith hadn’t bothered getting dressed today, instead opting to drag himself into the kitchen wearing a pair of fraying sweatpants and a night shirt, looking just as exhausted and drained as he felt. His ratty hair and dark circles apparently made him look so pitiful that not even Lance had the heart to tease him.

Speaking of Lance, the man himself had been oddly silent after he had plodded into the kitchen, yet Keith couldn’t find it within himself to care.  Anytime he so much as thought about the other, the knife in his heart would just dig itself deeper.

  _Lance… I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry._

Face flushing as his eyes threatened to spill unshed tears, Keith rapidly tuned into the conversation, too proud to let himself cry in front of his team. And even if he did allow the tears to fall, how the hell would he explain why?

 Luckily, Shiro was just finishing up his explanation of the ship sighting, turning to Keith with an inquisitive look. “So what do you think Keith?”

Lowering his eyes to the floor, Keith protested the mission half-heartedly, already knowing the outcome of the conversation. “It’s a bit weird that this ship is so conveniently empty and close by, right? Don’t you think it might be an ambush?”

 Shiro nodded, glancing over at Allura fondly, just as he had in the first loop. And also like in the first loop, the look made Keith want to exasperatedly shove the two in a closet. “That’s a good point, but Allura scanned the entire ship and space around it for signs of life, and there was nothing to be found. The chances of her missing something is really unlikely.”

 Allura blushed lightly and smiled up at the black paladin, and this time, Keith actually _did_ roll his eyes. He could always rely on the frustration that came with watching the two dance around each other as a good distraction from his very depressing and very numerous problems.

 Keith shrugged and waited for Lance to make some kind of quip about the two’s undying love for each other, but to his immense surprise, nothing came. Brow furrowed, he glanced up to look at the other, only to find that the blue paladin was already staring directly at him.

Their eyes locked in a silent display of emotion, confusion, and the slightest bit of concern clouding both of their gazes. Keith was worried about Lance’s weird bout of silence, but was Lance actually worried about _him_? Maybe Keith looked worse than he thought.

 After a couple seconds of awkward eye contact, Keith broke his gaze away from Lance and once again turned to Shiro, who had been waiting for his response long enough to warrant a questioning stare.

 Keith rubbed his arm, ignoring Shiro’s silent curiosity while his eyes flickered to Lance before settling at his feet, muttering as he did so, “I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

 Shiro shifted, gaze imploring him to see his reasoning and agree. “I know it seems weird Keith, but at least give it a chance? We have a lot to gain from this mission succeeding.”

  _It won’t._ Keith nodded, pursing his lips before offering a strained smile. “Fine.” His fingers itched to grab the black paladin by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. But the harsh reality was that even if he _did_ do that, even if he retold just exactly what he’d seen and been through, no one would believe him.

No one would believe he’d seen Lance die.

 While Keith was busy wallowing in his own depressing thoughts, the kitchen had cleared of the rest of the team, leaving him alone in what he thought to be solitude. But when he glanced up upon hearing an almost inaudible sigh, Keith spotted Lance, who had surprisingly not followed Hunk or Pidge out of the kitchen. The blue paladin had yet to leave, and had instead scooted closer to Keith’s slouched position on the counter.

 Lance looked uncharacteristically nervous, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket as he spoke. “Hey man, you okay? You’re looking a little worse for wear.”

  _If only you knew._ Keith rolled his eyes, snorting as he took a long gulp of his coffee. “Gee, thanks.”

 Lance huffed, prodding Keith in the shoulder. “You know what I mean, moron.”

 “Yeah, I know.” Keith paused for a moment, grudgingly touched by Lance’s inquiry. For a brief moment he considered spilling everything, pouring his aching heart out to the man before him.

He toyed with the thought of telling Lance what he’d been through, what he’d seen, what he’d done, what he’d felt, and briefly entertained the notion of Lance believing him. He imagined how the other would react, and was momentarily soothed by the thought of Lance hypothetically comforting him.

 But he wouldn’t, he _couldn’t_. How could Keith look Lance in the eye and tell him he hadn’t been able to save him from dying, let alone _three_ times? How could he confess that despite everything, despite all his planning and previous knowledge, he had been killed all the same?

 It _was_ his fault, after all. Keith had _known_ Lance would die, _known_ the dangers of entering the control room. Yet he’d still been foolish enough to do it, still been blind to just how cruel time could be.

 It was already hard enough to admit to _himself_ that he was more harm than help, that the blue paladin dying over and over again was because of him, but to admit it to Lance? Even thinking about it sent stabs of anguish through his already torn-up mind.

 Lance’s voice cut through his thoughts, effectively diverting his attention from his rather depressing train of thought. “Listen, I know you’re not really the sharing type, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to talk about it, you know?” Lance paused, hesitating only slightly before plowing on. “When I feel homesick, talking to Hunk or Pidge always helps me feel better. It’s nice to just let loose and not bottle everything up.”

 Keith stared at his feet, feeling no small amount of guilt that despite their less than amicable relationship, Lance was making an effort to cross the line over to real friendship, and he would never be able to return the favor. It meant more to Keith than the blue paladin would ever know that he was speaking so freely, and he dearly wished he could do the same. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t really want to talk about it.”

 Sighing, Lance stared at him for a long moment with an unreadable expression on his face before pushing himself off the counter, patting Keith on the shoulder as he did so. “Fine, well, if you say so. Just know that you can talk to me if you ever want to, okay?”

 He turned, hand sliding from Keith’s shoulder as he stepped toward the door. Keith found himself missing the warmth of his touch, and watching the other leave only served to drive the nail of guilt deeper.

 Maybe it was the chaotic flurry of self-hate and panic messing with his mind, but for a brief moment as Lance began to walk away, Keith saw the hazy outline of a dark stain of blood on the other’s back, spreading slowly outward from a gaping wound in the upper part of Lance’s spine.

 Whispered words and broken promises flooded back to Keith in a single moment, consuming all logical thought in one wicked, malicious swoop.

_“I wish I’d gotten more time to get to know you.”_

_“G-Guess I should’ve listened to you, huh?”_

_“It’s not your fault, Keith.”_

_“Don’t let me die.”_

 In a split-second decision fueled by panic and desperation, Keith lunged forward and latched on to Lance’s hand, spinning him around before he lost his nerve. His face felt like it was on fire as he pulled the boy into his arms, hugging him as tightly as his muddled brain would allow.

 Lance squeaked, going still for a few nerve wracking moments before Keith felt warm arms wrap around his own back, returning the hug with just as much strength as his own. Burying his face in the collar of Lance’s jacket, Keith relished in the very solid, very alive feel of the man he was holding, doing his best not to let his emotions get the best of him.

 Lance was here, not bloody, not dead, and Keith couldn’t have asked for anything more.

“I’m sorry.”

 Lance started, hands rubbing soothingly over Keith’s back as his voice colored in confusion. “For what?”

Keith sighed, lifting his head to rest his chin on the other’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I can’t talk to you. I want to, but—“ He choked, voice cracking.

Luckily enough, Lance seemed to understand. “It’s okay, I know.” He shifted, pulling away from Keith so he could look the other in the face. A light blush dusted Lance’s cheeks, causing a tinge of red to appear on his _own_ face. “Just know you can talk to me anytime.”

 “Yeah.” Keith breathed, fighting to keep the flush in his cheeks under control, and Lance’s close proximity _definitely_ wasn’t helping. “I will.”

 Grinning softly, Lance adopted a more cheerful expression upon hearing his agreement, but the look in his eyes, however, remained soft. Gently clapping Keith on the shoulder, he turned around and left the kitchen, shooting one last look at him before he left.

 Keith watched him go, eyes fixated intensely on the back of his head. He remembered Lance’s vibrant, blue stare, so unlike the clouded, lifeless gaze he had seen thrice before. Lance would not die again, not this time.

 Not if Keith could help it.

* * *

 The galra hangar was once again void of any life, a fact that Keith really wished he hadn’t already known. Yet still, he remained alert, gripping his bayard tightly and tensing at the smallest sound.

 If Lance noticed his jumpiness, he didn’t say anything, and for that, Keith was grateful. The two, much to his relief, had been paired up again on their own mission to collect information about the empire and the ship’s oh-so-mysteriously absent crew or whatever Shiro had deemed important.

 Keith honestly couldn’t remember, and even if he could, he didn’t care. He had only one objective, one goal, and it certainly wasn’t whatever Shiro had told them. This time, he would keep Lance safe. This time, he wouldn’t die.

 After about twenty minutes of stalking cautiously through the halls of the ship, Keith and Lance’s helmets crackled, just as Keith anticipated they would. He almost wished he had muted both their communications when Lance wasn’t looking, but immediately banished the thought. If he had, then it was almost certain that one or all of the other three paladins would die. And Keith couldn’t have that happening, not now, not ever.

 “Lance…eith? …eed help…ambush…”

 Lance startled, eyes blowing wide in surprise. He gaped at Keith, who was doing his best to look like he too, was shocked, and tensed as his hand flew to his bayard, prompting the red paladin to hastily do the same. “ _Ambush?!_ What the hell, we scanned the entire ship!”

 Ignoring Lance’s rising confusion and panic, Keith shoved the other forward, breaking into a run as he responded to Shiro’s distress message. “It’s okay Shiro, we’re on our way.”

 He deactivated his comm link, knowing full well that it wouldn’t connect to the others anyways, and upon making sure that Lance was behind him, set off towards the control room. He navigated the winding, dim hallways with surefooted dread, every step drawing them closer to the room he loathed to enter.

 The blue paladin squawked, panting lightly as he struggled to keep up with Keith’s rapid pace. “Keith, stop! We don’t know where we’re going!”

  _I do._ Keith gritted his teeth, ignoring Lance’s shouts as he plowed onward. The blue paladin’s concerns were, of course, entirely logical, but he didn’t exactly have the time to stop and explain to Lance that he’d done this all before. A second wasted explaining was a second the others couldn’t afford to lose.

 “Keith, seriously! _Stop!_ ” Much to Keith’s annoyance and rising worry, Lance skidded to a halt, head swiveling around to peer down the maze of corridors that branched off seemingly endlessly from the one they were in. “We should try going a different way, they could have gone in a different direction.”

 Keith growled and spun around, marching over to the other and grabbing his arms roughly as his bayard clattered to the ground. “Lance,” he began, struggling desperately to reign in the panic that was bleeding slowly into his voice. “We don’t have time for this.”

 “But—“

 His fingers dug into the slats between Lance’s armor, squeezing the muscles beneath in a death-like grip. “ _Lance._ ”

 Lance blinked, brow furrowing at the obvious tension in his voice. He replied, eyes narrowed in confusion as he searched Keith’s own. “Yeah?”

 “Do you trust me?” Keith watched as the other’s feature morphed into one of surprised befuddlement, plowing on before the uncomfortable silence grew longer. “Listen,” he sighed, still unable to look Lance in the face. “This direction is the right way, I know it is. I don’t have time to explain it to you, and you don’t have to believe me because even _I_ know that what I’m saying makes no sense.”

 Keith’s teeth clenched, pulse quickening as instead of responding, Lance stared dumbly down at him. “You don’t have to believe me, Lance.” He sucked in a breath, forcing his gaze not to waver. “Just trust me.”

Seconds passed, and upon Lance’s lack of reaction, the insecurities he had worked so hard to ignore suddenly swarmed back to him, buzzing around in his mind like a horde of angry wasps.

  _He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t trust you,, you_ know _that what he said before was a lie._ Keith looked down, fingers unconsciously digging deeper into the flesh of Lance’s arms. _He hates you Keith. He hates you. He doesn’t—_

“I trust you.”

 Now it was Keith’s turn to blink, the grip on Lance’s arms going slack in surprise. The other stared at him, gaze swimming with an unidentifiable emotion he couldn’t for the life of him place. “Y-You do?”

Lance nodded, expression uncharacteristically serious. “Of course I do Keith, I’ve always trusted you.”

Keith nodded soundlessly, fighting the wave of warmth that swept through his body as he bent down to pick up his sword, spinning it gently in his hand. _Now’s not the time for this, Keith. Deal with your stupid crush later._

 Pushing all emotion to the side, Keith hardened his gaze into one of determination, unable to completely mask the relief in his voice as he spoke. “Good, follow me.”

He turned, pleased to hear the telltale sound of a second pair of footsteps behind him as he once again broke into a sprint. Glancing behind him, Keith met Lance’s own resolve-hardened gaze with his own. A look passed between the two, filled with trust and understanding and something else Keith himself couldn’t place.

 Attention turning to the task at hand, Keith’s lips pursed grimly as his ears picked up the faint sound of gunfire. He slowed his pace, waiting until Lance had caught up with him before glancing at him once more.

 Much to his surprise, Lance was already looking at him, meeting his eyes with a resolve-hardened stare. “Don’t die, Keith.”

 “Yeah,” he breathed, marveling at the unknowing irony Lance’s words carried. “You too.”

 The two turned away, exchanging one last look before drawing up to the doorway, and stepped into a warzone.

 The second Keith entered the room he was forced to into a crouch to avoid an incoming galra blade, pushing it aside with his own as he rose to his feet and skewering the soldier on the spot. To his right Lance had just taken down his _own_ opponent, sniping him through the chest before the galra even had time to scream.

 Keith, however, had no time to focus on Lance as he was immediately swarmed by two more soldiers, each wielding swords of their own. Dodging their slashing blades, Keith lifted a foot and plowed it into the larger galra’s chest, knocking him back while taking advantage of the other’s shock to stab him in the gut. He glanced quickly at Lance, relieved to see he was faring well, and promptly shoved his sword through the second soldier’s chest before he could get up.

 The galra wheezed, blood splattering on his armor as he heaved his last breath, but was drowned out by a shout from Keith’s left. He whipped around, sword raised to block an incoming enemy, but was shocked to find that it wasn’t an enemy at all.

From behind a crudely constructed barricade of chairs and tables, Keith could just make out the glint of an impish smile, belonging to none other than the queen of mayhem herself; Pidge.

 Pidge waved cheekily, thinly masked relief bleeding into her voice as she shouted at Keith from across the room. “Nice to see that you finally made it, emo boy!”

 Keith scoffed, no real anger going into the action. He would take Pidge’s sass over her death any time or day.  “At least I’m here, you gremlin. Where are Shiro and Hunk?”

 “I take that as a compliment, thank you very much.” She turned, eyes scanning the room before they brightened, nodding her head towards the far side of the room. Keith squinted, able to just barely make out flashes of white armor accented with black and yellow between the throng of galra soldiers. “They’re over there, kicking ass, taking names. You know, the usual.”

Keith nodded, catching a glimpse of the aforementioned paladins as a row of soldiers blocking his vision were mowed down by Hunk’s bayard. The two seemed to be holding their own, a perfect combination of long and short range attacks. Any galra that got past Hunk immediately met their demise at Shiro’s mechanical arm.

 He turned back to Pidge, shooting her a relieved look at the sight the uninjured paladins. Thank god, he had gotten there just in time.

 Taking a moment to scan the room for Lance, Keith’s eyes honed in on where the blue paladin crouched a few feet away, shooting down every soldier that so much as looked his way. He seemed to be holding his own, but of course, this time, Keith would be taking no chances.

 Running over to Lance, Keith shoved his sword into the side of an unsuspecting soldier, stopping a few feet short of the other and immediately took up a defensive position. He eyed the onslaught of soldiers headed their way. With determination-hardened resolve, Keith lunged forward to meet them, confident in Lance’s skill as a sharpshooter to blast any stray soldier that might get through his defense.

He met the wave of galra head on, ducking under swords and side-stepping curled fists as he made quick work of the enemies before him. Occasionally, thanks to their large numbers, a soldier would slip under Keith’s defense and make to stab him in the back. Before that could happen, however, each soldier that had managed to get that close in the first place was knocked flat on their backs, courtesy of Lance’s bayard.

In any other fight, Keith would adjust his stance to cover the gap in his defense, but it wasn’t _his_ safety that he was worried about. It was Lance’s, and he would must sooner let some measly galra nick him than let Lance get impaled.

As the soldiers’ numbers dwindled, so did the din in the background, and Keith finally had a moment to step back and think, no longer at risk of getting immediately stabbed the moment he grew distracted. It had surprised him how quickly he and Lance had managed to thin out the horde, but despite his shock Keith couldn’t help the small twinge of satisfaction at he and the blue paladin’s teamwork. Despite all their differences, the two worked well together, and the emotional part of Keith’s brain couldn’t help but find immense glee in the fact.

Silencing the last soldier, Keith immediately whipped around and jogged the few feet back to Lance, eyes sweeping warily around the room for any incoming enemies. Despite the fact that he couldn’t spot neither hair nor hide of any remaining galra, Keith forced himself to remain on high alert, refusing to believe that preventing Lance’s death this time around had been so easy.

 Upon feeling a light touch on his shoulder, Keith jolted and whipped around, barely refraining from skewering Lance in the gut.

 The blue paladin frowned, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Jeez man, chill out. Pretty sure we got rid of the last of them, you don’t have to be so jumpy.”

 Keith shot Lance a quick look, not bothering to spare more than a few seconds on him before turning back to sweeping the room. In the far corner he could see Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge crowded around one of the control boards, the latter having wandered over not a minute beforehand to work her computer-magic.

 The rest of the room seemed clear, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious, especially after what Keith had witnessed happen before.

 “Dude, really. You can let your guard down, we got them all.”

 Once again, Keith flicked his gaze to Lance before turning back to survey the room, ignoring Lance with determined persistence. He continued to scan the room, eyes trailing over any potential hiding spots for a galra, but before he could finish his sweep, a brown mop of hair invaded his vision.

 “Come on Keith, quit it. They’re _gone._ Something weird is going on with you today, and I think you owe me an explanation.”

 Well _that_ certainly grabbed Keith’s attention. He cringed, reluctantly meeting Lance’s gaze as he struggled to formulate a sentence that would get Lance off his case. “U-Uh, it’s nothing.”

 Keith mentally smacked himself. _Wow, great excuse, smart guy._

Lance shook his head, wagging his finger in Keith face disapprovingly. “Nuh uh, you aren’t getting out of this one, mister lone-wolf.”

 “What?”

 Lance rolled his eyes. “Spill. You owe me.”

 Keith sighed, resigning himself to the fact that there was absolutely no getting out of Lance’s wheedling. He glanced at his feet for a few seconds before lifting his gaze, meeting Lance’s blue eyes with as much false-confidence as he could muster.

 “Listen, Lance,” Keith’s eyes trailed to the side, focusing on the doorway in his inability to meet the blue paladin’s searching gaze. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just—” _Wait, what was that?_ “It’s just I don’t know how—“ Keith narrowed his eyes, squinting into the dark hallway. _Was that…?_ “I don’t know how to tell—“

 Metal glinted in the doorway, and Keith’s eyes widened as he identified the shape as the barrel of a gun. Yellow eyes flashed in the dark, narrowing in delight as a purple finger pulled the trigger, causing a loud bang to reverberate around the room.

 Keith didn’t pause, didn’t stop to consider what he was doing, and even before he was aware of it, his legs were moving, lunging towards Lance with a speed he didn’t know he was capable of. A steady mantra of _‘go, go, go’_  pounded through his head as he reached towards Lance, all but falling on the blue paladin as he shoved the other out of the path of the bullet.

 A sharp stab of agony burst through his shoulder as Keith collapsed to the ground, letting out a strangled moan as pain bloomed to life on his shoulder. Out of the corner of his blurry vision, he could just make out Lance’s figure whip out his bayard and shoot the soldier in the doorway, felling the galra with one well placed bullet.

 A moment later Lance’s horrified face swarmed Keith’s vision, cupping his face with shaky hands. “Shit, Keith! Are you okay?” The warmth of Lance’s hands on his cheeks, despite being covered by cloth, served to pull Keith’s addled consciousness back to the present, brow furrowing as he gritted his teeth against the pain.

 Taking a moment to assess his state, Keith’s gaze flitted towards the doorway where the soldier now lay dead, blank eyes staring creepily back at his own. Keith shifted, hissing uncomfortably as the movement jostled his shoulder. He could feel the bullet still wedged in his flesh, sending fresh bolts of pain shooting up his arm and throughout his body, even reaching as far down as his toes.

 Despite his pain, Keith couldn’t help but feel pleased at the outcome of the situation. Yes, he had gotten shot, yes, it hurt like a bitch, but the important thing was that Lance was completely unscathed.

 “Keith?”

 Drawn from his thoughts by Lance’s worried utterance, Keith reached up with his uninjured arm to grasp at one of the hands cradling his face, squeezing it reassuringly. “Lance,” he sucked in a shaky breath. “Are you okay?”

Lance gaped, jaw dropping as he stared bemusedly at Keith. “Am I—“ He sputtered, removing his hands (much to Keith’s disappointment) from the other’s face in order to gesture wildly at his shoulder. “Am _I_ okay? Are you—“ he paused, “are you serious?”

 Keith blinked. “...Yes?”

 If anything, Lance’s jaw dropped farther, eyes narrowing in frustration as he got to his feet. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, false-annoyance failing to mask the concern in his eyes. “I’m gonna go grab Pidge, see if she has any bandages or some crap on her. Don’t move, okay?”

 Lance disappeared behind Keith, presumably headed in the direction of the other three paladins. Sure, his shoulder hurt like hell, but it wasn’t even bleeding that much, thanks to the bullet still lodged in his limb. It wasn’t too bad an injury (according to himself, anyways), and it certainly didn’t need any immediate attention.

 “No really, it’s fine. I don’t need—“ A sickening _shick_ interrupted Keith’s reassurances, followed by a short, pain-filled gasp. Keith froze, pupils dilating as he ever so slowly, turned around.

 He had looked everywhere, behind tables, in corners, everywhere at eye level or above. But the one place he hadn’t checked, the one place he’d assumed no one would attack from, was the _ground._

 Upon turning around, Keith’s eyes zeroed in on the lone galra soldier lying prone on his back, one he had stabbed through the stomach in what he’d assumed was a killing blow. But apparently, it hadn’t been. The galra on the floor was still clinging to life, and with the last of his strength had driven his blade straight through Lance’s unsuspecting back.

Keith surged upwards as he let out a horrified shout, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder as he thrust his blade straight through the neck of the already fading galra. The soldier gurgled, blood pooling around his mouth as the light faded from his eyes, but by that time Keith was already gone, attention fixated on the unsteady body of the blue paladin.

 Just as Lance’s legs gave out, Keith was there to lower his body gently to the ground, cradling the blue paladin’s head in his lap. He stared down at the other, taking in his pale skin and bloodied lips with wide eyes. White noise flooded his ears as Keith’s mind grew numb, refusing to accept this outcome, especially since he had been _so close_ to stopping it.

 “Shit— Lance, I—“ Keith’s voice cracked and he bit his lip, unsure of how to convey just how agonized he was. “I’m so—“

 Lance smiled thinly, raising a shaking hand to wipe away the tear that Keith hadn’t realized he’d shed. “I-It’s alright.”

 Keith choked. “N-No—“

 Lance stared up at him, an unreadable expression clouding his gaze. “Don’t,” he coughed weakly, flecks of red appearing on his chest plate. “Don’t cry, Keith. P-Please.” His eyelids fluttered, closing briefly before opening again, this time just as mere slits.

 Keith continued to stare dumbly down at the boy in his lap, tears continuing to spill down his cheeks despite Lance’s plea. “I’m so sorry, Lance. I’m so, s-so sorry.”

 Once again, Lance smiled, but this time his lips did little more than twitch. “Don’t cry,” he repeated, “Don’t l-like it—” His voice hitched suddenly, waning to a quiet murmur. "When you cry." Lance coughed weakly before growing silent, eyes drifting shut once more as he uttered the last syllable.

Keith stared desperately at Lance’s face as he waited for his eyelids to crack open once more, but as smoky white tendrils began to invade his vision, he resigned himself to the fact that the person he had worked so hard to protect was gone. _Again._

 Dimly aware of the other paladins asking from across the room what was wrong, Keith watched as tears continued to drip onto Lance’s still face, and though he desperately wished they would stop so he could at least give Lance what he asked, they refused to cease. If anything, the steady stream of water running from his cheeks seemed to only grow stronger.

 With a throbbing shoulder and broken heart, Keith closed his eyes, giving in to the white that clouded his vision with Lance’s last words echoing through his shattered mind.

  _Don’t cry, Keith. Please._

Keith sobbed.

* * *

 Slumped over at the kitchen table, Keith stared dully at his clasped hands, not bothering to so much as pretend he was paying attention to Shiro and Allura talk about the oh-so mysterious ship they had spotted a short while back.

 How many times had Lance died now? Three, four, five times? Keith couldn’t remember, didn’t _want_ to remember. He was losing track of just how many times he’d repeated this vicious cycle, a thought that was both alarming and darkly amusing.

 Keith huffed self-deprecatingly, trying and failing to recall just how many times he hadn’t been fast enough, smart enough, or good enough to protect Lance. He had tried so _hard,_ and had still managed to fail every time.

  _You’re useless. Lance has died several times already, suffered more than enough because you aren’t good enough. You failed, Keith. You’re pathetic._

 What was the point? No matter what he did, Lance would die anyways, no matter if he tried to save him or not. Lance would continue to die, Keith’s heart would continue to shatter, and round and round they’d go with no end in sight. Yes, there was no point—

“—eith?”

 Keith startled violently, hands clenching on the table as he whipped his head around to stare dully at Shiro. However, he quickly relaxed, slumping lower in his chair as his eyes drifted downwards and away from the black paladin.

“Pay attention, Keith. This is important.” Shiro frowned, speaking firmly but without malice. “I asked you what—“

 “No.”

 Shiro blinked. “Excuse me?”

 Keith’s eyes narrowed, nails digging into his palms as he stared angrily down at the table. An uncomfortable silence filled the room, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, even as he felt the weight of everyone’s stares on his shoulders. “It’s a bad idea, Shiro. I’m saying no.”

 Shiro inhaled sharply, taking a step back at Keith’s rather aggressive tone. “Think about it, Keith. It would be a good way for—“

 “No.”

 “Keith—“

 “I said _no_ , Shiro.”

 Eyebrows furrowing, the black paladin studied him for a few, long seconds, gaze boring holes into the back of Keith’s lowered head. “What is with you today? Everyone else thinks—“

 A harsh scraping noise filled the room as Keith abruptly shoved his chair back, rocketing to his feet as his hands slammed on the table with a resounding _thud._ Red, hot fury pooled in his veins, directed at nothing and everything at the same time.

 He was mad at Shiro for not listening to him, he was mad at Allura for spotting the ship. He was mad at the other paladins for going along with the idea, and he was mad at the galra he knew he would face. He was mad— he was mad…

 He was mad at _himself,_ for failing to save Lance every. Single. Time.

 The sudden revelation of just who his frustration was directed at only served to further infuriate Keith, pushing so much raw fury into his stare that Shiro looked taken aback. “I don’t _care_ what they think. It’s a terrible idea, and I’m not _going._ ”

 Not giving Shiro any time to respond, Keith pushed away from the table and shouldered past the black paladin, storming towards the door with his head down. Just as he crossed the threshold, a hand reached out and grasped his arm, tugging him gently to a halt.

 Lance’s voice flooded his ears, filled with confusion, and more predominantly, concern. The hand tightened imperceptibly on his arm. “Hey man, what’s wrong? We all figured you’d be all for this plan.”

 Keith glanced up, meeting Lance’s stare for a single second before once again turning his gaze towards the floor. Lance’s worry was so innocent, so naïve, so completely and utterly _pure_ that it physically hurt Keith to witness it. His humanity. The man before him was a living, breathing, _wonderful_ person, one that, in three days’ time, Keith would be forced to watch die.

 He couldn’t do it, didn’t _want_ to do it, not again. His heart was too weak, _he_ was too weak, to watch Lance die again.

Shrugging off Lance’s hand was more difficult than Keith would have thought, but he did it anyways, growling a short, “get off,” as he tried to close his heart to the hurt that flashed through the blue paladin’s eyes. He quickly whipped around and all but ran the last few steps to the doorway, forcing his legs to continue down the hall instead of turning back like he so wanted to do.

 It was better like this. After all, maybe one of the other paladins could save Lance, could truly save his life, instead of fail, time and time again. Maybe they could pull off what Keith had been unable to do so many times, because he was weak, he was pathetic, he was—

Selfish. So selfish that he had snapped at Shiro and had adamantly refused to go on the mission that could save Lance’s life. But he couldn’t do it. He refused to watch him die again.

 It was only after Keith felt wetness on his cheeks that he realized he had been crying.

* * *

 Three days had passed, and it was currently morning, or as close as it could get to morning in deep, dark space, but instead of the kitchen being packed full of people, breakfast items, and coffee, it was completely void of life; silent, empty, cold. Though he wasn’t there himself, Keith knew for a fact that the room was empty, because at this time, on this day, the kitchen was always, _always_ empty.

  _Don’t think about that, Keith. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about_ him.

 Keith rolled onto his back as he shifted around in the bed he hadn’t once left in three days, eyes staring dully up at the ceiling as he forced his mind to stay carefully blank. He was hungry, starved even, but he simply couldn’t find the strength to get up, instead completely focused on trying not to count down the minutes until he knew the paladins would meet in the control room.

 Instead, he forced his mind to turn to other things, thinking back on the past three days that had been his own, personal hell.

 At several points during the time span in which Keith had holed himself up in his room, the other paladins had come to talk to him, whispering concerned words and questions through the locked door as if they could _possibly_ understand what he was feeling. Though the company itself was unwelcome, the words offered a useful interference with his normal, depressing train of thought. He would simply listen as they tried to bribe him into coming out of his room, be it by goading him with food or simply begging him to come out.

But of course, Keith refused to listen. He had ignored the paladins as best he could, counting the minutes until Saturday and dreading every single one that passed, bringing him closer and closer to Lance’s most probable death.

He tried to distract himself with idle games, holding his breath until he almost passed out, doing sit-ups until his stomach muscles ached, but nothing he did succeeded in pushing the thought of Lance’s slowly approaching death from his head. Even now his mind was, without fail, drawn to the digital clock on his bedside table.

 Keith sighed, gaze listlessly wandering over the pale ceiling above his head.The other paladins had been gone for about an hour now, so whoever had been sent to the control room in this loop would be requesting backup right about… now.

 The time on the clock changed, one minute closer to Lance’s death, but Keith couldn’t bring himself to do more than twitch. It would take somewhere between five and ten minutes to reach the control room, and assuming Lance wasn’t the one in the room originally, it would take anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour for him to be killed.

 The last loop, it had taken a deceptively long time, long enough for Keith to think he had finally won before watching a blade impale itself in Lance’s back. That had been… fifty minutes, maybe an hour? And then before that, when Lance was once again stabbed, it had taken maybe thirty-five minutes before the life had faded from his eyes. And before _that_ …

 Fuck, he couldn’t remember. How many times had he failed to saved Lance? While he couldn’t remember the exact number, Keith had an answer all the same: too many. So now he would leave it up to someone else, because he was too weak, too much of an excuse of a hero to do anything.

 Keith glanced at the clock, noting that approximately fifteen minutes had passed since he’d last checked. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes, trying his best not to envision the seemingly endless ways for Lance to end up dead.

 Unfortunately, his overactive imagination seemed to have other plans. Gruesome images filtered through his brain, one after another of various scenes depicting Lance’s death, each more awful than the next.

 In one image he was shot, in the other, decapitated. A severed limb danced across Keith’s vision, followed by the horrifying thought of Lance choking to death on his own blood. Hell, it was even possible for him to be electrocuted, thanks to the stray wires Keith had spotted on his last visit to the galra ship.

 A few more minutes passed, followed by another, and another, and another, each one bringing a new, vivid depiction of Lance’s death. A nervous weight settled in Keith’s gut, eyes remaining fixated on the clock that seemed to be changing numbers much too fast. He absolutely loathed not knowing what the blue paladin was doing, despised not being there to see him, to watch over him, to protect him.

 Like a sudden surge of water, the regret he had been struggling to ignore pushed at his mental barriers tenfold, breaking them with ease and flooding his mind with waves of horrible, painful guilt. _I should be protecting him. I’m supposed to keep him safe._

Keith grit his teeth, and in a split-second decision threw the sheets from his body and bolted out of bed, legs carrying him in the direction of the hangar where the lions were kept. If he could just make it to Red, then maybe he could fix this. He had to make this right, he _had_ to keep Lance safe.

 His lungs were burning by the time he neared the hangar, feeling as if they were on fire as Keith pushed them to their breaking point and beyond. He didn’t have time to worry about himself, and he could beat himself up later for being so, so _stupid_ for not going with the rest of the paladins. Right now he only had a single goal: to get to Lance.

 Right as he neared the door, Keith’s foot caught on the baggy hem of his sweat pants, sending him sprawling to the floor with a multitude of creative curses as his forehead collided painfully with the tiled ground. He groaned, raising himself up with his arms as he shook his head to clear his eyes of the white spots dancing across his vision like miniature fireworks. But just as he was about to pick himself up, Keith froze.

 The white spots weren’t fading. The white spots _weren’t._ _Fading._

 Instead of clearing from his vision as they normally might after knocking one’s head, the tiny circles of color only seemed to be growing bigger, oozing outward until their edges connected, and then some. Though they were spreading slowly, their very presence sent Keith into a full-blown, terrified panic.

  _Shitshitshitshitshit—_ Keith pushed himself to his feet, ignoring his rapidly beating heart as he forced his feet to move, carrying himself in the direction of the hangar door as if he had everything to lose.

 And really, he _did_ have everything to lose. With no family of his own, the paladins were the closest to one Keith had ever gotten, and were his closest friends, though he would never admit it out loud.

 And of course, there was— there was Lance.

  _Lance_.

 For all for all of their petty bickering, Lance really was Keith’s closest friend. Sure, there was Shiro, but Shiro was more of an older brother if anything, and there were certain things you couldn’t tell or feel for a brother. Lance was something else, Lance was special. And now he was on an enemy ship, bleeding and dying and alone and _Keith wasn’t there with him._

The white in Keith’s eyes had all but encompassed his vision, sending him crashing into a wall as his brain could no longer provide directions to his feet thanks to the lack of sight. He hit the floor once again with another painful _thud_ , but this time, he didn’t get up, he _couldn’t_ get up. The white haze that he had long since grown to abhor had completely taken away his sight.

 Tears spilled from Keith’s eyes as he heaved in a shuddering gasp, noting that he couldn’t hear the noise or feel the air in his throat as he did so. He clutched at the feeling of warm, salty tears trailing down cheeks, until he couldn’t even feel that.

 Keith continued to cry, knowing exactly what had happened as his consciousness finally, _finally_ faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my wonderful beta reader Ryn, who also drew the god-like art and I love with all my heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! This was only made possible thanks to my wonderful beta, Ryn! <3
> 
>  
> 
> Also if you look at the tags, they kinda give you a clue to some of the stuff coming up hint hint


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